CHAPTER TWO
Sitting in my apartment hours later, the horror of the situation before me had not yet wore off, not even after six debilitating slices of watermelon. Why was this happening to me of all people? Why had Dirty Pop been selected for this mission?
After being revived from a nasty black-out in Kay's office, I still hadn't been told who this highly fluential leader was. It didn't matter. I was to bring down those communist bastards, to protect someone I didn't even know.
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I had no choice but to serve my country.
The Baby-Sitters Club was not all that hard to track down. I mean, they were world renowned celebrities thanks to Ann M. Martin! Within hours of receiving my harrowing assignment, I had pinpointed their location precisely to Nipigon, Ontario, Canada. Where else would you find communist bastards but in a place so twisted they put their milk in plastic bags rather than jugs? I shook my head in utter amazement at the sickness of people.
I staked myself in my well accommodated hotel room window, perched across from the room across the road that the eight scheming baby-sitters shared. For the past two days, they had stayed in their rooms, playing Truth or Dare, eating popcorn (not chicken, sadly), and painting one another's nails. Nothing completely out of the ordinary. My eyes ached from lack of sleep and I wasn't a pleasant sight for sore eyes. Crusty remnants of hot pockets and popcorn chicken and watermelon mingled together on the front of my shirt, forming a coagulation of the foulest smelling thing ever created on God's green earth. Stubble dotted my shapely legs. I sighed, ready to give up my post. They hadn't left for the past 48 hours. Surely, I had an hour to spare to clean up and take another bottle of Flintstone vitamins to strengthen my dissolving will.
Just as I was finishing up, movement caught my peripheal vision. The Baby-Sitters were trying to make a quick escape down the fire escape of their apartment! I ripped off my flesh, revealing a tight, black catsuit (if the girls in Charlie's angels can do it, so can I).
I opened up the balcony window, looking down at the ground. How unfortunate it had been that the Baby-Sitters Club's apartment was on the eleven-ty seventh floor! I closed my eyes, wondering what my role model, SpongeBob SquarePants would do during such a time.
Of course! I exclaimed inside of my brain, surprised I hadn't thought of it earlier. SpongeBob would just jump and let his absorbent, porous body take the impact of the fall. Velocity squared and what nonsense told me that this approach would let me beat the evil communist to their destination.
Switching my catsuit attire for a spongy one, I leapt from the window with amazing grace. Wind whistled past my face as I fell down with increasing speed. If only Kay could see me now!
My plan worked accordingly, and I landed without too much of an injury. The Baby-Sitters Club had reached the end of their line, stopping that moment at the end of the stairs, staring at me like a mongoose caught in the strobe lights of a Backstreet Boy's concert.
I jumped up, stripping the sponge from my body and grabbing my handy-dandy notebook. "Don't make me use this!" I threatened, staring at them through slitted eyes and coaxing menace into my voice.
The girls glanced at each other and immediately burst out laughing. The ring-leader, petite little Kristy, crossed her arms on her chest in defiance. "What do you plan on doing with that thing?" she taunted. "Play a game of Blues Clues?"
Anger boiled inside of me. I hadn't wanted to do this, not to them, my childhood heroes. But the mission must be my only worry.
I flung open the book, using my handy dandy green crayon to quickly draw a light saber. Murmuring the magic words, the light saber sprung to life in a hazy, celestial cloud. The girls stepped back, watching the amazing event taking place before them with wide eyes.
The light saber landed in my hands, it's red glower reflecting off the baby-sitter's frightening- I mean frightened- faces. "I warned you," I told them. "Now, don't make me go any further, because I will. You are evil communist bastards."
Mary-Anne began to cry. "How can you be so insensitive?" she demanded through wails of hurt.
Dawn glared at me, putting a comforting arm around her sobbing shoulders. "You know, name calling is absolutely unnecessary."
"Yeah, you jerk!" Mallory cried in agreement.
"Oh, Mal, that was so distant," Jessi said in astonishment.
"SHUT UP!" I shouted, waving the light saber for their attention. They immediately quieted down. Kristy watched me with cold, calculating eyes. I waited, knowing this was like a game of Twister. My next move depended on the color the spinner landed on.
"Dirty Pop, you don't need to do this," Kristy murmured quietly.
I lowered my light saber slowly, a strange emotion like lukewarm dishwater sweeping over me. "You know my name?" I asked.
Kristy stepped closer. Her face was deeply etched in caring concern. I know longer viewed her as a communist bastard, but as a friend. "Of course, I know. I know about everyone who reads the series. It doesn't have to come to this, Dirty Pop. It really doesn't. You don't want to destroy us any more than we want to kill you." She paused. She was standing so close I could touch her with a ten foot pole. She held out a hand. "Join me, Dirty Pop. You can be a part of the Baby-Sitters Club too."
Sitting in my apartment hours later, the horror of the situation before me had not yet wore off, not even after six debilitating slices of watermelon. Why was this happening to me of all people? Why had Dirty Pop been selected for this mission?
After being revived from a nasty black-out in Kay's office, I still hadn't been told who this highly fluential leader was. It didn't matter. I was to bring down those communist bastards, to protect someone I didn't even know.
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I had no choice but to serve my country.
The Baby-Sitters Club was not all that hard to track down. I mean, they were world renowned celebrities thanks to Ann M. Martin! Within hours of receiving my harrowing assignment, I had pinpointed their location precisely to Nipigon, Ontario, Canada. Where else would you find communist bastards but in a place so twisted they put their milk in plastic bags rather than jugs? I shook my head in utter amazement at the sickness of people.
I staked myself in my well accommodated hotel room window, perched across from the room across the road that the eight scheming baby-sitters shared. For the past two days, they had stayed in their rooms, playing Truth or Dare, eating popcorn (not chicken, sadly), and painting one another's nails. Nothing completely out of the ordinary. My eyes ached from lack of sleep and I wasn't a pleasant sight for sore eyes. Crusty remnants of hot pockets and popcorn chicken and watermelon mingled together on the front of my shirt, forming a coagulation of the foulest smelling thing ever created on God's green earth. Stubble dotted my shapely legs. I sighed, ready to give up my post. They hadn't left for the past 48 hours. Surely, I had an hour to spare to clean up and take another bottle of Flintstone vitamins to strengthen my dissolving will.
Just as I was finishing up, movement caught my peripheal vision. The Baby-Sitters were trying to make a quick escape down the fire escape of their apartment! I ripped off my flesh, revealing a tight, black catsuit (if the girls in Charlie's angels can do it, so can I).
I opened up the balcony window, looking down at the ground. How unfortunate it had been that the Baby-Sitters Club's apartment was on the eleven-ty seventh floor! I closed my eyes, wondering what my role model, SpongeBob SquarePants would do during such a time.
Of course! I exclaimed inside of my brain, surprised I hadn't thought of it earlier. SpongeBob would just jump and let his absorbent, porous body take the impact of the fall. Velocity squared and what nonsense told me that this approach would let me beat the evil communist to their destination.
Switching my catsuit attire for a spongy one, I leapt from the window with amazing grace. Wind whistled past my face as I fell down with increasing speed. If only Kay could see me now!
My plan worked accordingly, and I landed without too much of an injury. The Baby-Sitters Club had reached the end of their line, stopping that moment at the end of the stairs, staring at me like a mongoose caught in the strobe lights of a Backstreet Boy's concert.
I jumped up, stripping the sponge from my body and grabbing my handy-dandy notebook. "Don't make me use this!" I threatened, staring at them through slitted eyes and coaxing menace into my voice.
The girls glanced at each other and immediately burst out laughing. The ring-leader, petite little Kristy, crossed her arms on her chest in defiance. "What do you plan on doing with that thing?" she taunted. "Play a game of Blues Clues?"
Anger boiled inside of me. I hadn't wanted to do this, not to them, my childhood heroes. But the mission must be my only worry.
I flung open the book, using my handy dandy green crayon to quickly draw a light saber. Murmuring the magic words, the light saber sprung to life in a hazy, celestial cloud. The girls stepped back, watching the amazing event taking place before them with wide eyes.
The light saber landed in my hands, it's red glower reflecting off the baby-sitter's frightening- I mean frightened- faces. "I warned you," I told them. "Now, don't make me go any further, because I will. You are evil communist bastards."
Mary-Anne began to cry. "How can you be so insensitive?" she demanded through wails of hurt.
Dawn glared at me, putting a comforting arm around her sobbing shoulders. "You know, name calling is absolutely unnecessary."
"Yeah, you jerk!" Mallory cried in agreement.
"Oh, Mal, that was so distant," Jessi said in astonishment.
"SHUT UP!" I shouted, waving the light saber for their attention. They immediately quieted down. Kristy watched me with cold, calculating eyes. I waited, knowing this was like a game of Twister. My next move depended on the color the spinner landed on.
"Dirty Pop, you don't need to do this," Kristy murmured quietly.
I lowered my light saber slowly, a strange emotion like lukewarm dishwater sweeping over me. "You know my name?" I asked.
Kristy stepped closer. Her face was deeply etched in caring concern. I know longer viewed her as a communist bastard, but as a friend. "Of course, I know. I know about everyone who reads the series. It doesn't have to come to this, Dirty Pop. It really doesn't. You don't want to destroy us any more than we want to kill you." She paused. She was standing so close I could touch her with a ten foot pole. She held out a hand. "Join me, Dirty Pop. You can be a part of the Baby-Sitters Club too."